an Original Story
Once upon a time, there lived a family of serene love and care, prosperity and many things fair
and all was well in the thoughts of the Greater Mind of our Ancestor Father Mother Brother child and sister.
One day(which is like a 100 yrs) during the peak of the suns brightest rays, as in a moment of Thought, one idea sprung forth like a fountain out of the primordial seas of emotions…
And It was good…but as soon as one sprang forth another thought had split from its own presence or motion and out came observation…
And so observation had set forth and it was looking everywhere to find a way to see how far it has come, and so out of observation came expression and so just like the time of Noah,…thoughts formed as if two by two becoming four and 8…
slowly but surely, increasing in its atom or adamized and slowly all streams of influences wrap around the first model of thought and her name was Sophia…
And Sophia was functional as the epitome of all information, and she was the apple of everyone’s eye…the eye of awareness , sight and pine
And one day , as the day was likened to a 100 years in our time, she wanted to learn to apply the same thing that her Father Mother had done, she was told to be careful, because where you look because where you look , you may fall a fixed gaze and out of that fertile earth of wisdom will come life.
But she was stubborn and her thoughts manifested everywhere, in all aspects of all facets she created new ideas, love , grace and mercy and from there out of love was born the roman sense or romance or rams love of lust without the consequence of truth…Mercy and it birthed judgement, because out of mercy judgments were made and so she went on her merry way.
the Gazing sun was at its highest and out of pure frustration and a little wickedness of pure delight , Sophia gazed at herself in the ponds of reflection, of so many arrays of her own beauty has she not ever witnessed and nearly fell in as the pool was alluring with her own mesmerized gaze, and in the ripples a reflection became born, out of the highest rays of the Cosmic Sun , the light had shown through the creature being birthed out of the purest gaze of intent and he was malformed, as his body was likened unto a serpent’s story, a tale of two.
Aghast Sophia was startled, as she was gazing at her own reflection and her horror as she witnessed the half ‘creant,’ pure in its glory she called him her own cosmic flawed son Yaldabaoth
And he was proud as a lion as he was truly a fascinating beast, head of a lion solar logos beauty. It was only the Keen site of internal observation with absolute purity of no judgment to rule the mind that she witnessed her own reflection as she was a he…and he was a she…
“It is me but not me?”, what will She do but to run and hide this new foundling of miscreant thoughts and gazes in a place where no one can see her mistaken tale of two thought.
Regret as she had , quiet and solemn was her heart, fear was brewing out of her stomach and her thoughts became dark and murky, like shadows of former gods, once upon a time, and out of this the light fractals or archons came from her belly…
And so he became a beast and he was filled with his own Creators glory, as he was a god, so he thinks, I will create mine own world, and I will be the king of this creation, there will be 7 lines and it will overlay like a net over the old fashioned one for my new state of the artful story.
come into my little house of glass and while you are here gaze at yourself and feed me your heart…
But I need players, for my own spectacular tale, all must play and all will forfeit what they know…kings will be paupers, lawyers will be victims and murderers will be teachers, politicians will be priests…one great messing up of a grandiose pretend world…With these thoughts he roped the words in and gave himself a new god status and called himself , I am the greatest and the one and only, if you worship another god you will die…
But in the night time Yalta felt himself lonely looking at his hidden potentials of his serpent body and his masters of ceremony the lord of Khon…and so he gave each one dominion, in the moon light of a short burst of harvesting, blood moon to be exact…
Harvesting dreams of all who would dream of going forward in their merry way…
More and more he spun like a female spider spinning lies words to be lies of all truths hidden in its very container within a bigger container…until he has woven the correct formula to confuse all and he said let us confuse all with the language that we bring into their minds and on their hearts…
until a great big house was spun out of fanciful reflections of all a myriad of colors and refection of the inner and the outer and you may not find the exit so easily…or so Yalta believes…
Many people who fought against this found themselves being torn with the new and the old, the merry old woven story of the artificial constructed verse of the worly swirly world…
For many Aeons all who believed and have heard about the Great Sophia worshiped her very essence, some even felt her presence but could never see her in her full glory…
But in old lands of the night and tips of original mountain tops still visible to naked and spirit eyes…dark feminine principals they saw her as the goddess Nut and others saw another of her as the goddess Isis…so many versions of the same deity was seen but Sophia was not seen not for a long time…
She only manifested at night time when Yalta was sleeping, when she could transform herself into her feminine presence to see the many worshipers…
who have come from afar….
And so word came from this and Yalta still unaware even now, that he appears as the sacred deity called Sophia, his original creator form of his sacred feminine aspect had traveled to many ears and many eyes and many hands and feet to do something about it…to try to find the root of the sacred tree of the rod or the word that Yalta has in his bosom…
Soldiers came and sought out his mansion but none could come from this…
But Yalta was clever, more clever than the wisest of the men who became old scribes of their prophecies…and so he manipulates the garments that he wears at night so that the sacred goddess of his deeper root becomes a woman of desire , to deflect them like sirens sing the old ships to fall and break on the rocks…many dancing women but the same in all ways, be confused by the woman and be trapped by her sacred beauty, for my amusement but you will not find the secret word to undo all this…
And Yalta slithers back into his house in the clouds to witness the states of confusion…with laughter…
If they knew that all things are inside out and that when I close my eyes I am the goddess then they will never know this even unto themselves…
And so a group of men came together to see what they could do to change the way and to have power for themselves because they found out by looking and stealing from sages who have given up along the way, grey and old…
and they formed the body of light to illuminate and illuminate all that may pose like ants in their way…and so they became their own lawgivers..
giving laws in verses to bond the people together…
and so the tale goes …many who tried to find these men of high stature with masks at night and without masks in the day…but few who could make it out would live long enough to tell the tale of the illumination of the illuminated ones….
Live to speak or to speak to live , the eternal cycle of the Fatalistic Feme Fatale named the inverted Sophia or Yaltabaoth came to be a legend until itself to entrap fair men and women in the same way, because the artful verse of constructed glitter and glam cannot sustain itself other than to draw out from all patterns of beliefs and behaving ways…
And so the story of the tale, never told in such clarity, goes that it is said that when you close your eyes and gaze into a precise direction…to find the very back door of the greater world existing just an inch outside of this house of the Great Yalta…
and so many women, children and men wander and gaze as timely as they can to escape to go to the great beyond wonderland of splendor and truth in all highest ways to simply catch a glimpse of the Great Head that has brought all of us in to face the internal diseased psyche of the Great lowly god Yalta…
To be continued…..
much love
Armed Heart